


red-handed

by cirrus (themorninglark)



Series: SASO 2017 [34]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Challenge: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2017, Gen, M/M, rip Atsumu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 19:24:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11720907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themorninglark/pseuds/cirrus
Summary: He imagines the conversation he will have with Osamu, after this debacle.Hey Samu! Guess who I met! Oh, and I may have fucked up any chance we had of getting on the volleyball team.Kita in an ankle-deep pond with water lilies trailing from his hands.





	red-handed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SASO 2017 Bonus Round 5: Clue | [originally posted here](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/24808.html?thread=15403752#cmt15403752)

This is how they meet: Kita with his hands wet and full of flowers, sheets of paper floating face down all around him. Their ink seeps into the rippling water like so many lost whispers and love letters they might have exchanged, in another life; in this one, Atsumu is the doomed first year who’s thrown the wrong bag into the school pond in a fit of misplaced temper.

“I am _so_ sorry,” he calls, frozen where he stands. “I thought I’d grabbed my _brother’s_ , it looks just like yours—”

The look on Kita’s face as he turns is enough to make Atsumu swallow the rest of his excuses.

“And am I supposed to think better of you because you wanted to throw your brother’s bag into the pond?”

Atsumu shifts uncomfortably, shuffling from one foot to another. He doesn’t think it will make a difference to Kita Shinsuke that Osamu’s bag wouldn’t _really_ have landed in the pond. If it was Osamu, he would’ve appeared from whichever remote corner of the courtyard he’d been lurking, grabbed the bag from midair and left it at that with a long-suffering sigh; Atsumu doesn’t know how he does it, but he’d trust Osamu’s radar more than he trusts anything about himself. He’s honest enough, at least, to admit that.

He imagines the conversation he will have with Osamu, after this debacle. _Hey Samu! Guess who I met! Oh, and I may have fucked up any chance we had of getting on the volleyball team._

“Can I help you, Kita-senpai?” he asks belatedly, darting forward to the edge of the pond. He shucks off his shoes and tosses them to one side, rolls up his pants, and wades in. From between pursed lips, he bites off a hissed breath like a swear word. “ _Shit_ , it’s cold—”

Kita looks up with his armful of damp papers, a notebook in his hand. He stares at Atsumu for a second, lips twitching; if Atsumu didn’t know better, he’d venture a guess that it was a smile. As it is, he figures Kita’s just smirking at the sight of him freezing in the water.

“You can help me by taking these to dry land, Miya-kun,” Kita says, and throws the notebook over. It arcs through the air, not quite _directly_ at Atsumu, and Atsumu has to lean over and make a desperate scramble for it before it falls in again.

“Hmm. Nice receive.”

Atsumu’s head snaps up.

“Wait,” he says. “You gave me that throw on purpose! You know who I am!”

Kita eyes him with open amusement now. “Of course I know who you are. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“I,” Atsumu starts, then blurts out, before he can think better of it, “I know who you are too.”

“Well, naturally,” says Kita. He turns away, delves into the deeper end and emerges with his satchel, straightens to shake it out and sling it over his shoulder as he crosses the pond. Even like this, dripping wet with water lilies trailing in his wake, he is every bit the commanding presence that Atsumu remembers watching from the stands, the reason he’s here at Inarizaki—

“I expect to see you tomorrow at the first club practice,” Kita murmurs as he passes, and there’s a shiver tingling in Atsumu’s spine that has nothing to do with the water’s chill.


End file.
